


Choose Your Own Adventure: Sergio's Wedding Edition

by catmanu



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Affectionate Insults, Arguing, Belligerent Sexual Tension, Geri is a mess, I had nothing to do with this these guys wrote it themselves, Idiots in Love, Insults, M/M, Polyamory, Romantic Face Punching, Sergio is a brat, Texting, group chat antics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:35:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22340416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catmanu/pseuds/catmanu
Summary: The jury's out on whether Sergio actually invited Gerard to his wedding. How are we to know whatreallywent down?Or, two fics in one: What happened if Geriwasinvited to Sergio's wedding, and what happened if hewasn't.Read to find out!
Relationships: Gerard Piqué/Sergio Ramos, Gerard Piqué/Shakira
Comments: 11
Kudos: 45





	1. In which Geri is invited.

You’d think his wedding invitation would somehow have clashing patterns, like maybe peacock and leopard, or at least play AC/DC when you opened it, but the piece of paper in his hands is pretty _normal._

Except that fucking note on the bottom about phones not being allowed at the event.

_Fucking Sergio._

“Who does that dick think he is?” Geri says out loud to his entrance hall. “Royalty?”

He calls Busi. “You got it, right?”

“I did.”

“So are you going?”

“Of course. I’m sure it’ll be insane. You know how he is.”

“What do I DO?” Geri howls.He still hasn’t left the entrance of his house.If he doesn’t move soon Milan will show up to tell him he’s crazy. He seems to be at that age.

“About Sergio’s wedding?I don’t know, go?Don’t go?”

“I could tell him I’m busy that day.”

“You _are_ very busy.”

“You’re telling _me._ ”

Busi sighs so hard it hurts Geri’s ear. “Why do I feel like I’m in one of those movies… Sixteen Candles or something. Do you really have to stress out this much over a wedding?”

“Nah. I’m not stressed at all. He’s just a dickhead, and I don’t know if he deserves to be graced with my presence on his special day.”

Busi advises him to get over himself.Milan peeks his head around the corner. _Do I know my son or what?_

“I’m on the phone. Give me a few minutes, okay, Milan?”

Milan stands his ground. “Mom told me to ask you if you were being all crazy about Sergio Ramos’s wedding.”

“Yes, I am! Well, I’m not being crazy, but I am talking about his wedding.”

“Don’t lie to Milan. You’re being crazy,” Busi adds. What kind of friend is he, exactly?

“Ooooh...!” Milan gasps. “I thought you didn’t like Sergio Ramos anymore!”

“I don’t. That’s why I don’t want to go to his wedding.”

“Ok _ayyyyy,_ but Mom says you still do like him.”

Busi is cracking up. “No offense, Geri, but this is fucking hilarious.” 

“I’m hanging up on you.” He does.

“I need another minute, okay?” he says to Milan. He texts Sergio.

_Got your invitation._

Sergio texts back instantly, like he’s been waiting for this.

_Congratulations, so did everyone else._

_I’m probably not coming. I have a lot of commitments._

_I didn’t say to text me about it. Send back the response card._

Geri frowns. _You seriously don’t care whether I come or not?_

No answer.

_Sergio???_

Read 17:32.

_Don’t leave me on read, you dick. Answer me._

“Dad?” Milan is up in his face. “Is that Sergio Ramos? You look mad.”

“I am. But not at you.”

“Can we block him?Can we _pleeeeease_ block him?”

“I’ll think about it.”

_*_

He takes Clement out for dinner. He’s a good guy and they’ve been making a damn good center-back team lately. He doesn’t seem to have much personal drama, either. Maybe he’ll have some advice about the wedding.

“So, Clement,” he says over fancy hamburgers. The place is trendy—everything is artisanal—and packed full of people and so loud he’s practically yelling in Clement’s ear. It pays to have a big mouth. “Did you ever have an experience where you were invited to something and wanted to go but also didn’t want to go, to make a point?”

“I mean, that’s pretty specific,” Clement yells back. “Sometimes I have mixed feelings about an event, but never to make a point. What’s going on?”

Just then Sergio sends him a photo. He’s wearing pants—very nice, well-fitting pants—but that’s _all_ he’s wearing. This is the first time Sergio has texted him since leaving him on read in front of Milan.

_Going suit shopping. Like my suit Geri?_

_That’s not a suit. Where’s the rest of it?_

_Oh this is it. All I’m wearing to my wedding. Just pants and shoes. Maybe not even any underwear, I’m considering it._

He almost drops his phone on the artisanal wood floor. What the _fuck._ He looks up, his face red, feeling certain that Clement saw the whole thing, but Clement is also on his phone. Millennials are the best.

“Just heading to the bathroom,” he says to Clement, working his legs out from under the tiny table. “Be right back.”

“Take your time!” Clement smiles but doesn’t look up.

Geri can’t get to privacy fast enough. Sergio has sent another message. Another photo.

_Should I wear my pants this low? What do you think?_

_STOP IT_

_Or I could just_

In this next photo Sergio’s got his pants down so low that the base of his cock is showing. Geri buries his head in his hands and wails into his palm. This was supposed to be _over. Why_ is this happening now?

He forgot to lock his phone when his hands and head collided and when he finally recovers he sees that he’s sent Sergio:

_ioiljiipijoommnjibnbn_

_A keysmash? Thought you were smarter than that Piqué. Or do I just look that good?_

_Fuck. You._

Geri mutes the conversation and storms back out into the restaurant to finish his nice dinner with his nice friend Clement. He’s not going to ask anything else about weddings. He’s never going to say the word again...

*

He finds Ivan after practice. He’s at the mirror with his hair gel, probably trying to find a different way to spike it that will still never be noticeable to anyone else but him. Geri wouldn’t call them close friends, but Ivan tends to be calm and level-headed, doesn’t stir the pot much, and also—

“Modrić got invited?” he asks without any introduction. _You aren’t supposed to be asking about this anymore,_ he helpfully reminds himself.

“Mmhmm. He and Sergio are close. I think it’s nice.”

“Do you think I should go?”

“It’s in Sevilla, right?”

“Yup.”

Ivan’s eyes practically glaze over. “Why would you pass up a chance to go to Sev—"

“God, I should have fucking known better than to ask you,” Geri sighs. “Hey, focus. Wake up. Should I go or not?”

“When have you ever asked me my opinion before?”

“Valid point.”

“So why are you asking me now—oh!” He smiles. “You want to know what Luka’s getting him for a gift, right? You could have just said that.”

Geri thinks he may have found the one person in Spain who doesn’t at least vaguely suspect that he and Sergio spent years fucking.

Sergio sends him another photo. Now he’s finally got a shirt on, a white dress shirt that hugs his biceps perfectly. Unfortunately...that’s all he has on. His half-hard cock is barely visible underneath the shirt. _Jesus Christ._

“Are you okay?”

“Ummm, yeah.” He blinks. “Sure. Find out for me, Raki, will you?”

“Of course!”

“Thanks.”

“But Geri, Sevilla is the most wonderful place in the world. I love Barcelona but—you know? It’s just the best place. You’d be crazy not to—"

Geri rolls his eyes and leaves him to talk to himself.

He finds Sergi, who’s just about getting ready to leave. He sits down next to him.

“I need some advice from someone who doesn’t pop a raging boner anytime he hears about Sevilla.”He says this in Catalan. It’s time for some exclusivity.

“You found the right person. What is it?”

“Should I go to Sergio’s wedding?”

“Of course you should. If you didn’t go it would be a real dick move even for _you._ ”

“Thanks a lot.”

“Just telling the truth.You’d regret not going.”

“Maybe. But he pisses me off _so much._ I—"

His phone vibrates. Sergio’s hand curled around his cock. _Who am I thinking about...???_ is his caption.

“Holy shit. Dude. Someone’s sending you nudes? Who?”

How does Sergi not recognize the tattoos? “I don’t know. They are... _unsolicited_. I’m deleting them.”

He saves it instead. He’d done a good job of deleting all his private photos of Sergio. But apparently he’s restarting his collection.

“Gay nudes, though? Did someone give out your number as a prank?”

“Probably Ramos.”Geri’s always prided himself on thinking fast. “See? That’s why I don’t want to go to his wedding. He’s an obnoxious dick. Hasn’t changed.”

“I still think you’ll regret it if you don’t go,” Sergi says. “Why don’t you go but make sure to look _really_ good? Better than him?”

“Hmmm.”This gives Geri an idea. “I think that’s what I’ll do.Thanks, Sergi. I’m glad I can count on you.”

“No problem, man. You better tell me all about it.”

*

It’s been a long time since Geri’s sent anyone nudes. He thinks he might have lost his touch.

Thankfully, long after the kids’ bedtime, he has some help in the form of a fake fur rug and a more-than-willing photographer.

“How am I looking?” he asks Shak, who’s messing with the way she’s folded the brown fur.

“Be patient. This has to be just right—can’t show too little, can’t show too much—"She smiles as she finishes whatever she’s doing. “Okay, there. This rug is a perfect shade of brown. It makes your eyes pop.”

“Will it make him crazy?”

“He’d be crazy if it _didn’t,_ ” she says. “Here we go...Don’t smile. Look intense.”

He takes a look at the photo.

“It’s good. Do you think he’ll like it?”

“Uh-uh, not getting involved. You two are impossible.” Shak grins and gives him a little shove so he falls back onto the rug. “Just let me know if we’re going or not so I can find something good to wear.”

Early the next morning he texts Sergio.

_Hey, I’m thinking about your wedding._

_Good for you._

He sends Sergio the picture. _Tell me the truth. Am I too pale? Should I tan beforehand?_

Sergio types and deletes and types and deletes and finally sends: _Go to HELL_

And that’s it. No more photos from Sergio, no more texts. Nothing.

Geri’s _pissed._ It was a damn good photo. That smug dick. That _asshole._

*

Geri stays pissed. Who the fuck has Sergio turned into? No matter how much they fought in the past, Old Sergio would _never_ have ignored him naked on a fur rug.

He won’t stand for this kind of disrespect, even though he thinks he’s rather impressive when he stands. He decides he’s _not_ going to Sergio’s wedding. And he’s going to tell him that in _person._

*

It’s no big deal to get a private plane to Madrid, and as long as he wears his hoodie and sunglasses and hunches over the wheel a little, he’s not too distinctive in his rented car.

A while back, Sergio had given him the necessary codes to get into his property, and apparently the idiot has never changed them. It’s convenient. It’s very Old Sergio.

He parks in Sergio’s driveway like he owns the place and finds him lying down by the pool in the tiniest bathing suit in the history of mankind. The way his tattoos swirl over his strong thighs are just— _God—_ Geri always pretended to hate them, but they both knew it wasn’t true.

“You know what, Piqué?” Sergio asks, so calm even though there’s some familiar anger flashing in his eyes. “I’m not totally surprised to see you here.”

“Oh, yeah?” Geri splays himself out on the lounge chair next to Sergio’s. He tosses his shirt onto the ground. Better make himself at home. It’s not lost on him that Sergio’s eyes widen and he licks his lips when Geri takes his shirt off. “Why’s that?”

“I’ll give you a list. One. Breaking and entering is the kind of thing an asshole like you would do. Two. You haven’t left me the fuck alone since you got my fucking invitation. Three. You’re a stubborn piece of—“ He derails himself. “Seriously, you sent me a photo of yourself naked on a fur rug.”

“Wasn’t it good?”

Sergio very clearly wants to say _yes._ “How much did you have to pay Shakira to take that wild fucking thing?”

“The payment was me naked on a fur rug, thank you very much.”Geri strategically runs his fingers through his hair. “Anyway, don’t get too used to my presence. I’m just here to tell you I’m not coming to your wedding.”

“Guess I lucked out.”

“Even your invitation was fucking stupid. Why would I _want_ to bring my phone to your wedding anyway? I wouldn’t want to see your ugly face getting married whenever I went on my phone. It would ruin my day.”

“Well, I’m glad I won’t have to see _your_ ugly face at my wedding,” Sergio says.

All Geri can come up with is, “My face isn’t ugly.”

“That’s all you have for me? Do better.”

 _Oh, I will. I will._ Geri swings at him. Sergio ducks, rolling off the lounge chair. He laughs.

“I said do _better,_ Geri.”

Sergio gets up and runs. Geri sprints after him. Sergio’s fast, but his strides can’t keep up with Geri’s. _Thanks, legs,_ he thinks wildly as he corners Sergio against the pool house. He shoves him hard into the wall and wraps his hand gently around his neck.

“Say it again, Sergio. Say I’m ugly.”

Sergio’s eyes are so wide.

“Say it.”

“But...you’re not,” Sergio says carefully. “I’ve never thought that. You know that.”

Geri waits.

“Also, uhhh...can you take your hand off my throat before I get hard?”

Geri looks down at the tiny bathing suit and back up at Sergio’s deep brown eyes and silky hair.

“I think it’s too late for that,” he says softly.

He’s not sure which of them starts the kiss, but they’re sloppy and toothy against each other until they remember how to kiss each other properly. And then they do. They do.

Geri lets his hands wander. He strokes Sergio’s cock through his bathing suit, paying special attention to the tip where he’s most sensitive. Sergio’s mouth slides off Geri’s. He moans wet against his cheek.

“I’m not used to your beard,” he manages. “It’s been too long.”

“Huh. I don’t think I ever asked for your opinion.” Geri lets his pants and boxers fall to the ground. He takes Sergio’s hand gently in his own and wraps it around his cock, which has gotten pretty damn hard without any help at all. But now it wants Sergio. He wants Sergio.

Sergio moans louder now. “Why’d we stop doing this?”

“Cause we’re—we’re fucking stupid,” Geri gasps. He falls forward and bites Sergio’s neck and grunts like an animal. He’s gone full Neanderthal or something. It’s just that he doesn’t have to give Sergio any directions. Sergio knows just how to hold him, just how fast to pump his fist. Just when to stop and spit into his hand and smear it all over Geri’s cock in the most filthy and vulgar and perfect way possible.Sure, Geri’s a talker. But he can’t find words when Sergio does this.

He nudges Sergio’s bathing suit down, grabs his cock properly, and then slaps his thighs. “Spread,” he gasps, hurrying over the single syllable like he can’t give Sergio the direction fast enough, and and when Sergio parts his shaking legs he licks a finger on his free hand and shoves it roughly inside him.He wishes he could do more than just a finger, but he doesn’t think Sergio has any lube stashed at his pool, so a finger it is.

Sergio’s body jerks and he comes suddenly, warmth splattering all over Geri’s stomach and arm. He couldn’t care less. Sergio’s beautiful writhing against the wall, his mouth open in an O, one hand squeezing Geri’s cock erratically while the other claws at his chest.

“Tired...” Sergio sighs.

“We’re not done here,” Geri starts to say, but then Sergio puts his mouth on his bare chest and he’s back to forgetting how to speak.Sergio nibbles and bites—he will leave marks but that’s the beauty of the Sergio Exception in his relationship— and whispers against his skin.

“I missed you.”

His fist twists on Geri’s cock as he says this, and Geri’s body lurches without his consent, trapping Sergio back against the wall, and he lifts a leg up and around him to keep him there.

“Why’d you have to say that?” he asks, and feeds the finger that’s just been up Sergio’s ass into his mouth. Sergio licks at it, the kinky fuck. “Now I have to admit I missed you too.”

Sergio twitches. Suddenly he’s turning around, his hands up against the wall of the pool house, shoving his ass against Geri. “Use spit,” he’s gasping, “I don’t care if it hurts, do whatever you can, just _give it to me—"_

Geri would love to listen to Sergio, but he comes all over Sergio’s perfect ass instead, pulling Sergio’s hair till his neck stretches back and he whimpers.

Sergio finds his hand and squeezes it.

“I need to sit,” Geri says. “That was—I’m actually going to fall over. Can I carry you?”

“Mmhmm,” Sergio says, his arms already clasped around Geri’s neck, and he lets Geri pick him up and bring him to a recliner. Somehow they both fit.

“Seriously,” Sergio yawns. “Why’d we stop? Do you even remember?”

“Guess we pissed each other off too many times?” Geri slides his legs through Sergio’s shorter ones and pulls him closer.

“I mean, you do have an ego bigger than your dick.”

Geri laughs. “Is that an insult or a compliment?”

“For you? Both at once.”

Geri traces the shape of Sergio’s ear. Softly. Tenderly. This is the Old Sergio he remembers. He kisses the top of it and licks into its swirls.

“Jesus. Stop. That feels too good. You’ll get me hard again.”

“Well,” Geri breathes. “I’m still not coming to your wedding. So I might as well spend some more time with you now.” 

Sergio’s voice is _dripping_ with disappointment. “You’re not?”

“Nope. I guess I like you again, but not _that_ much.”

Sergio groans. “Well, I guess I’ll have to keep sending you photos of my wedding outfit choices."

“You better stop doing that. Don’t even think about it.”

Sergio turns around in the recliner—it’s not an easy job—till he’s facing Geri.

“Make me,” he says, grinning. He kisses Geri again, deeply. _God. This asshole._

“I _will_ make you,” Geri whispers. “Got lube?”

“Yeah, indoors,” Sergio says. He jumps up, threatening to tip the whole recliner over. It’s not made for two. “No one’s home all day. Let’s go?”

_Yes, let’s go._

He thinks.

Whether he goes to Sergio’s wedding or not—this is _far from over._


	2. In which Geri is not invited—and that’s totally FINE!

You’d think his wedding invitation would somehow have clashing patterns, like maybe peacock and leopard, or at least play AC/DC when you opened it, and Geri is dreading receiving it.He doesn’t even want to look at it.

Still, as the days pass and it still hasn’t arrived, he starts wondering where it might have gone.

Then Busi sends something about it to their half-dead Roja group chat.

_Wow Sergio didn’t expect you to send out such a plain invitation!_

These are, without a doubt, the worst words Geri has ever seen.

Busi is practically his neighbor.He got _his_ invitation.

Maybe the mailman stole it.An invitation to Sergio Ramos’s wedding might be worth something someday.Everyone wants a piece of Sergio Ramos—his wedding, his ass, his fucking life.

It might pay to go down to Correos and report the theft of his invitation, but he doesn’t feel like seeing it mentioned in some magazine that he was fighting with someone at Correos (Without Shakira).He can be patient, too.

His patience lasts two days.Not bad.He texts Sergio. 

_Congratulations on your upcoming wedding._

No response.The next day— _Did you get this?I said congratulations on your wedding._

The third day— _Stop ignoring me, fucker.I’m trying to congratulate you._

Of course Sergio responds to this—he chomps at the bit at any invitation to fight.It’s not that Geri doesn’t know this, but maybe he’d been trying to do something normal around Sergio for once. 

_I don’t trust your congratulations.What do you actually want from me?_

_I don’t want shit from you, Ramos.Not one thing.Just being polite to my former teammate._

_Hop off my dick Piqué. You want an invitation._

Geri certainly did not want an invitation; especially not from someone who was currently misrepresenting the truth on his phone. _Hop off?I was never on your dick.You know it doesn’t go like that._

Doesn’t? _*Didn’t go like that._

He watches Sergio type and delete and type and delete. _Don’t be shy, Ramos,_ he continues. _Admit you’re thinking about my dick.What would Pilar say?_

The next response didn’t take long at all. _Grow up, Piqué._

“Dad?” Milan appears in his custom-designed blaugrana pajamas.“Why are you just standing here?”

_Already did.I have 10 cm on you.And that’s just height.I haven’t even mentioned_

“Dad? You look weird.”

“I’m having a weird conversation, that’s why.”He’s accidentally hit send too soon, and Sergio has already responded. _Stop trying to sext me I’ll block you._ “Where’s Mom?It’s almost your bedtime.”

“Mom’s not home this week, _remember?_ ”Even his six year-old is giving him a hard time tonight.There is no escape.“Grandma is here and she told us to get into our pajamas and wait for you.Can I play on your phone?”

“Absolutely not.Dad’s phone is for Dad.”

Sergio hasn’t shut up. _I can’t believe you sank so low. To text me whining about an invitation.My life is so much better off without you in it just so you know._

_Right back at you Ramos.I even deleted your nudes.Didn’t need that whole mess of skanky tattoos on my phone._

There’s no way Sergio is going to text back now, and he doesn’t. 

“Fine, you can play on my phone if you want,” he sighs, offering his phone to his son.“But if I get any messages from Sergio Ramos you have to let me know, okay?”

“Ooooh, Sergio _Ramos???”_ Milan gasps. “I thought you didn’t like him anymore.”

“I don’t. That’s why I want to know if he texts. We’re going to block his number if he does. ‘Kay?”

*

He dreams he finds Sergio’s invitation.It’s lying outside his door. When he opens it and squints at the ink, which is hard to read on the leopard and peacock print paper, arms wrap around him from behind. 

“I wanted to deliver it to you myself,” Sergio whispers.

“You asshole, you left me thinking…”

“I sure did,but doesn’t it feel more fun when it’s a surprise?”Sergio rests his chin on Geri’s shoulder.“I have it planned. At the reception we’ll fuck in front of everyone, before AC/DC plays.”

“What???”

“My guests are _progressive_. And I want them to see us.”

He reaches behind him and scratches Sergio’s head.

“Because we’re good together,” Sergio breathes.His arms tighten.Geri wakes up.Barely.He shoves his right hand underneath his boxers and reaches with his left for the bedside table where the invitation must be.His right hand finds what he expects it to find.His left hand doesn’t.

Even in his dreams…even at 4:26 AM…Sergio’s wedding has taken over.

His right hand loses interest.He casually checks to see if Sergio has responded to him yet with some good insults of his own.

Still nothing.

That asshole.

He scratches his head and tries again. _Hey, at least I deleted them instead of leaking them…right?_

Why is Sergio still up?Of course he is.He writes back: “ _Read 4:28 AM.”_

That’s just _cold._

Sergio’s never been cold. What has he done to deserve this, anyway?

He tosses his phone onto the empty side of the bed and luckily falls back asleep easily. Not so luckily, he dreams of Sergio taking an ice bath during a training session.

He can’t _believe_ Sergio didn’t invite him to his wedding. Cold as an ice bath, that guy. That fucking—

*

The group chat has come back to life with a vengeance. The guys are stressing about what they should get Sergio for his wedding.

_You guys sound like teenage girls,_ Geri types. _Who the fuck cares? Just get him something and be done with it._

Iker is too nice to call him out. Jesús is not.

_Embarrassing how jealous you are man_

Iker is being oversensitive, but in some way Geri wishes he were being an asshole like all of the other guys.

_Maybe we should make a separate chat for the wedding so we don’t blow up Geri’s phone! :)_

Because Geri doesn't want anyone feeling bad for him. He’s lucky he doesn’t have to spend money on a fucking gift or a trip to Sevilla.

_Don’t feel bad for me. While you all are sweating your asses off in suits in church, I’ll be floating in my pool with a drink._

Nobody texts back. They are feeling sorry for him. Well, he pities them. He absolutely pities them.

*

_Guess that dick wasn’t good enough for an invitation?_

_You’re texting me about my dick now Jesús? I charge for nudes but I’ll give you a friends and family discount._

_No I mean literally. Couldn’t dick Ramos down enough for an invite. HAHA!!!_

Geri is uneasy. This feels like it’s beyond normal fuckery. _What the hell do you mean?_

_Koke heard you guys once. He had the room next to Sergio’s._

_He’s a fucking perv. Ramos was probably watching porn. You people need to calm down._

_Yeah okay the porn had someone yelling your name in Sergio’s voice? That’s what Koke heard_

Geri feels like his legs are going to give out. It would be a long way down if they did, so he flops onto the nearest couch.

_Okay...How come you guys didn’t say anything?_

_We were waiting for the right time_

_And this was it?_

_Yeah! Now we know he must have been faking it that night. HA!!!_

Of course it’s very tempting to correct Jesús. Because no. Sergio wasn’t faking it. Not that night, not any of the others. But that definitely wasn’t Jesús’s business. And he also really doesn’t want to think about the past.

At least Koke hadn’t heard Sergio begging for it to _hurt._

_You don’t deserve to hear more about my sex life, Jesús. Not after you insult my abilities._

_Cry about it more rich boy. I’ll save you some wedding cake._

Geri wants to remind Jesús that he wasn’t invited either, but somehow he doesn’t think it’d make a difference.

*

He texts Sergio. It’s important. _Sergio. They know about us. Jesús and Koke and probably everyone else. Just so you know._

Nothing from Sergio. He didn’t even have the courtesy to leave him on read. Sergio Ramos, so icy these days even the Andalusian sun couldn’t melt him.

“Did Sergio text you yet?” Milan asks.

“Nope.”

“Ooooh! Can I block him? Can I block him can I block him can I—“

“No! This is grownup stuff. You are not a grownup, okay?”

Milan looks hurt, and that’s when Geri knows this is getting out of control.He doesn’t want to take any of this out on his kids. They don’t deserve it. In fact, nobody deserves it except Sergio.

“I’m sorry, Milan.” He squeezes his son’s hand. “You’re right, we should block him. Want me to show you how?”

It makes Milan’s whole night. 

(Geri unblocks him right away.Just in case.)

*

He has one—just one—private photo of Sergio left on his phone.It’s technically not explicit, which somehow makes it evens worse. Sergio’s shirtless, with those tacky wings poking above the waistband of his tight jeans.

That’s it. That’s all it is. There’s no lack of shirtless pictures of that show-off online. But his thumb is hooked under his waistband like he’s about to pull his pants down, and he’d taken it for Geri. Just for him. He’d sent it with some kissy faces and a wink.

Geri can’t believe he’s about to jerk off to a photo of Sergio again. But he is. This is what it’s come to.

And he knows it’s time to go get his invitation.

*

Discreetly getting a private flight to Madrid is no big deal, and they discreetly bring him to his rented car, and as long as he wears his hoodie and sunglasses and hunches over the wheel a little, people probably won’t notice him as he drives through the city.

A while back, Sergio had given him the necessary codes to get into his property, and apparently the idiot has never changed them. It’s convenient, but—Geri feels a little stab of concern. Who knew who else he’d given the code to?What if he was setting himself up to be murdered by a crazy fan or something?Why is he even thinking about any of this? He couldn’t blame someone for wanting to murder Sergio Ramos.

He creeps the car up the driveway and pulls up outside the garage. Figuring out what to do next isn’t necessary, because the garage door is open and Sergio is in there washing his fucking Fiat. This is unreal.

There’s no point in sneaking around. Geri slams his car door loud enough to make Sergio look up, and then walks over to him.

“You’re washing your own car?”It’s a pretty stupid way to start the conversation—yes, he’s washing his car, _duh—_ but the thing is, the way Sergio looks right now is making coherent thought pretty difficult. Very difficult. He’s got nothing on but low-riding shorts. His chest and abs look a little damp from the water, and a headband is holding back his sweaty hair.

“Either that or you’re trying out for a gay porn,” he continues desperately.

“What the fuck are _you_ doing here?” Sergio snaps, his brown eyes so familiarly angry that it _hurts._ “I don’t remember inviting you to break into my property.”

“It’s not breaking in if you have the code, Ramos.”

Ha! Sergio is speechless. “Fuck,” he finally manages.

“I figured,” Geri continues, “only a total idiot wouldn’t have changed the code after giving it out to random people—“

“You’re not random,” Sergio says, so softly Geri isn’t sure if he was supposed to hear it or not.

“And total idiot is a pretty good description of y—“

“Shove it, Piqué. I’m not interested in arguing with you right now. Get the fuck out.”

Geri’s not going to do that.

“I know why you’re here,” Sergio continues. “Even a _total idiot_ like me knows why you’re here. I’m not inviting you to my wedding.”

“I want to know why. Why not? You think I’m jealous or something?”

“I couldn’t give a single fuck about your feelings, Piqué.You want to be jealous, be jealous, but it’s not my concern.”

“So what is it then?” Geri makes sure he’s standing up straight enough to look down on Sergio instead of at him. “I’m great at a party. I tell great stories. I can network for you. You know what I did for Barça with our sponsorship—“ Sergio is rolling his eyes. “Hey! Stop rolling your eyes.” 

“Maybe I’m afraid you’ll start a fight at my wedding, huh?” Sergio says. His arms are crossed over his bare, shining chest. He looks so smug, so fucking self-righteous, Geri could just punch him in the face _right fucking now._

“What kind of fight?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Sergio steps closer to him. “So many choices. Political? I don’t know. Just sitting there and not shutting the fuck up? Ruining the day with your mouth?”

He really doesn’t mean to. He really doesn’t. But next thing he knows he’s hauled off and punched Sergio in the face.

He flashes back to when he walked in on Luis getting interviewed for their Matchday documentary. Luis was saying some shit like... _Geri is such a gentle giant on defense...I always tell him to attack! If I were him I would be attacking the other players!..._ Something like that.

His pal Suárez is a little psycho at times, sure, but he did make a good point. Geri has that energy, has had it all his life, but rarely does anything angry with it.

Except with Sergio.

_I save it all for Sergio._

Sergio looks outraged, especially when he touches his lip and notices the blood on his fingertip.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

But his voice doesn’t sound as angry as you’d expect, and two sets of eyes automatically travel down to the very obvious erection starting to form in his shorts. _Oh._

“...Still?” Geri asks, a little impressed.

“I guess. It hasn’t ever come up since—I mean...you’re the only person who would—“

Geri closes the space in between them. 

Invitation or no invitation, Sergio’s lips are the same.His kisses are soft but decisive, and with them comes all the heat that had been missing from their conversations.

Sergio’s facial hair is different than it was the last time...but everything else is excitingly familiar. It’s like riding a bike or something, apparently—you never forget how to kiss Sergio Ramos.

“Hey. Why’d we stop doing this?” Geri whispers against Sergio’s cheek.

“Five minutes ago I probably could have told you. But now I don’t remember.”

Sergio’s always been too full of energy to stay still—both of them are, really—so in barely any time at all he’s got his hands on Geri’s chest, smoothing over the muscles there, while Geri runs his hands through Sergio’s hair. It’s still as silky—in the way he’s always secretly envied—as it’s always been. He tugs it a little and Sergio purrs and this noise gets him hard right there against Sergio’s leg.

And Sergio speaks, lips to lips. “You still have that _liiiiitle_ bit of fat on your stomach. Right here.”

Geri rolls his eyes so hard he wonders if Sergio can feel it. “Yeah, and I can still pick your ass up and carry you wherever I want.”

“Where do you want to carry me?” Sergio whispers hot against his ear.

“Well...I don’t know. Got a place in mind? The floor is dirty and we can’t do anything in your Fiat unless you want me to stick my legs out the window.”

“Hmmm...” Sergio thinks. “I don’t wanna take you in the h—shit! Geri, _shit!_ ” Geri is gently squeezing his cock through his shorts now. He’s getting the reaction he wants. “Uhhh... _fuck_...How about the pool h...Come on...”

They stumble like two colossal idiots all the way over to the pool and burst into the pool house. It’s hot and stuffy and there’s dust in the air, shining in the sunlight, but Geri’s way past caring about ambiance.

“You know what I want? I want to take all my clothes off,” Sergio whispers.He doesn’t wait for Geri’s opinion. In one smooth motion, he unbuttons his shorts and lets them fall to the floor along with his underwear. Geri bites his lip. Because the thing is—Sergio naked is the right amount of toned, the right amount of tanned, and his ever-changing tattoos are foreign and fascinating.His cock arches gracefully up between his legs, getting pink at the tip. Unfortunately, in Geri’s eyes he’s kind of perfect. Unfortunately.

“Come on,” Sergio says, stretching out on the couch like he’s about to pose for a painting. “Join me.”

And Geri does. He doesn’t waste a second. He leaves his clothes in a puddle on the floor and dives onto the couch. It creaks and sags _I guess I can’t be too rough with him on here_ but stays up. Sergio wraps his arms around him and bites his nipple.

“Ow, fuck!”

“Sorry. Should I kiss it better?”

“Fucking animal, biting me like that...Of course you should.”

Sergio’s warm tongue is soothing. He growls and pushes his cock against Sergio’s. He’s glad for the heat of the pool house. It’s intensifying everything. They’re sweating already. “Roll over, Ramos,” he says.

And Sergio does, all the resistance out of him. He wriggles around and soon he’s pressing his ass—also unfortunately perfect—against Geri’s cock. “God...” Sergio’s mumbling as he wriggles. “It really has been too fucking long.”

Geri nuzzles at his neck and bites his earlobe. Sergio laughs. He does it again.“Mmmm,” he sings. “Gonna eat you up.”

“Isn’t that your teammate’s thing? Not yours?”

“Shhhhh.”He uses his fingers to part Sergio’s ass and pushes the head of his cock against his hole. Sergio is shivering, but so is Geri. “Lube?”

“Oh, yeah,” Sergio says. He smirks. “I definitely keep _personal lubricant_ at my fucking pool hoping that one day you’ll show up and—”

Geri slaps his hand over Sergio’s mouth. “You watch it or I’m going in without.”

“If I didn’t have to walk during the next few days...maybe I wouldn’t mind.”

Geri rocks his dick between Sergio’s cheeks. They’re slick with sweat already and and and and and God Geri wishes they had some lube and maybe he should move so he and Sergio can blow each other but he doesn’t want to leave this closeness. Wouldn’t do it even if it guaranteed Barça the Champions League next year. He snakes his arm around Sergio’s warm hipbone.

“Let me fuck your fist,” Sergio moans, and Geri wraps his hand around Sergio’s cock— _your hand’s so big, I forgot—_ he doesn’t need to be stretching Sergio’s ass to its limit to destroy him—he whispers in Sergio’s ear _yes yes fuck yes oh god yes_ as he grinds up against Sergio’s hole and Sergio’s cock gets warmer and thicker in his fist and he thumbs the moisture at the tip and presses it to his own lips—He thinks—

_I can’t fucking stand you Sergio—_

_I can’t fucking stand how I feel about you I don’t even understand how I feel about—_

“I dream about you all the fucking time,” Sergio pants. “Sex dreams. Teenager shit. Even in my dreams you annoy me.”

“Am I—am I annoying you now?” Geri wraps his leg over Sergio’s to get more leverage against him. Sergio’s hips move wildly, losing their rhythm as Geri squeezes his fist tight.

“Shut the fuck up,” Sergio groans. “God, can’t you _ever_ shut—“ He interrupts himself to find Geri’s other hand and squeeze it and squeeze it and squeeze it—

Geri’s almost stopped thinking entirely. Wedding and invitation—definitely no longer in his vocabulary. He loses himself in Sergio’s shameless grunts and the sight of Sergio’s tanned and tattooed skin against his pale legs.

They’ve always been about contrasts.

But that’s why they _work,_ right? That’s why this is perfect—

Sergio groans and comes into Geri’s fist, his back arching impossibly, bonelessly, he’s making so much fucking _noise,_ and Geri finds himself biting Sergio’s neck and whimpering in his ear like a puppy and then he comes ridiculously hard, drenching Sergio’s ass. It feels so good he can’t even form words.

Geri wants to tell Sergio he thinks he loves him even though he hates him, but for once in his life he manages to not be so fucking impulsive.

“You were fast,” he smirks instead.

“Shut up. Don’t even start with that, we came at the same fucking time.”Sergio’s still holding onto him. Geri reaches down to the floor with his unclean hand, wipes it on his shirt because there’s no other option, and wraps his arm back around Sergio. He rests his chin on Sergio’s strong shoulder.

“Couldn’t hear a word you just said. Nap?”

He brushes some of Sergio’s silky hair off his sweaty forehead.

“Mmm. Yeah.” Sergio moves his legs so they’re tangled up with Geri’s. “I hate admitting it, but the best naps are with you.”

“We won’t get caught?” Geri scratches Sergio’s chest lazily. _Visca El Barça!_ he traces on his flushed skin, and thinks about how he and Sergio are definitely going to fall asleep with Sergio holding his hand.

But that’s partially on him. He wouldn’t get go for anything.

“Nah. Pilar took the kids to her mom’s for the night....How about you?”

“Shak knows I’m here.”

“Ah, I see.” Sergio laughs softly. “That arrangement’s still a thing, huh?”

Geri continues. “Milan really wants to block your number.”

“Little shit just like his dad, huh?”

“You know it.”

They’re supposed to be napping. Geri’s well aware that he really _does_ talk way toomuch. But...

“You know, Koke and Jesús think you were faking it,” he laughs.

“Let ‘em,’ Sergio says. “They clearly have no idea what good sex is, so…I feel bad for them.”

“They all feel bad for _me,_ ” Geri says.Suddenly he remembers why he’s here.“They think I’m sad that I wasn’t invited to your wedding. Or mad, or…something.”

“Are you?”

Geri sighs. “Yes…I am. _Fuck_ you.”

Sergio shrugs.

“Fucked any other guys since me?”

“Yup.” How is Sergio _still_ holding his hand?

“Are they coming to the wedding?”

“Maybe.”

“So then invite me.”

“I’m not doing it, Geri. I’m sorry, but it’s not happening.”

Geri’s chest sags against Sergio’s back. No sense in hiding it. Despite all the contrasts, Sergio knows him too well.

“But you could spend the night here, if you want,” Sergio says. “I have lube in my bedroom. You can put me on my knees, split me in half, maybe one of my halves will send you an invitation.”

“Mmmm. I’ll think about it,” Geri breathes. He’s hurt. This _hurts._ And yet he’s still falling asleep holding hands with Sergio Ramos like he’s done so many times before.

Invitation or no invitation...He really won’t be blocking Sergio anytime soon.

This isn’t over.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! These guys were the most fun to write ever; let me know if I should do more!
> 
> Kudos and comments would make my day! :)
> 
> Talk to me on [insta](https://www.instagram.com/griziwave/) or [tumblr](http://theboywiththedejantattoo.tumblr.com)!


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